Hot August Nights
by Kayla Gayle
Summary: The sequel to Ends and Beginnings, a continuation of my Reno Vamp series. Nick attends a festival of hot rods and cool music and meets up with some old friends. UPDATED and revised.
1. Default Chapter

**HOT AUGUST NIGHTS**

_Disclaimer notice: Here I am again with a sequel. Part 2 of my Reno Vamp series. Permission to archive at any known site. Again, they belong to Parriott and Co and not me, except those who do and you know who those are._

_Note that the title comes from Reno's annual festival of hot cars and cool music. If you ever want to see something special, attend it. _

**CHAPTER 1**

It had been about a quarter of a year that Nick Knight; former detective turned benefactor had been living in Reno, Nevada. Nanette's Place, the organization he founded, had turned into one of the guest charitable organizations in the state-larger and with more budget than the Salvation Army. Nanette's Place, located at a midway point between Reno and Sparks, was in the perfect spot to do the most help. Nick worked at night as a supervisor and also kept the books. He had a laugh at the fact he had to do paperwork.

In fact, Nick was very involved in all phases of the processes of the shelter. There were a lot of homeless or working poor in the city and quite a few of them were actually working full or part time for the casinos and restaurants in the area.

It was August now, a busy time in the area, for that annual citywide event Hot August Nights was in full swing. This was held in the first week of the month and was a festival of everything of the 50's and 60's. This year was to be the Beach Boys only concert appearance. Nanette's Place was exceptionally busy for the whole city was booked up. Hotels usually used for residential purposes were filled with out of town guests. Hot August Nights brought out the price gougers en masse. Hotels that normally went for $50 a night now went for double and triple. Nick had been amazed at it, but people willing paid.

Even Bloodlines, the semi-gothic nightclub he went to, was very busy and hard to get into without your name on the list. Bloodlines, the double entendre name referred to the equestrian décor of the front of the club and the darker atmosphere of the back had recently been portrayed in a major underground magazine. Tourists of course loved it, but every club was filled to capacity almost every night.

He still went out on Saturday nights for his friend Cary Shelley had made sure of that. Cary was always trying to lure Nick over to the dark side, but he did it more subtly than LaCroix. The blond vampire was still sort of upset with his new friend over the trip to Sangus, the blood bar, but eternity was too long for held anger.

Every now and then he thought of the people he had left behind and what they would think of all this. Nat and Tracy and Don. The Captain and even his loft. But that was the curse of vampirism. Eventually you had to leave people behind.

This particular night found Nick at the sock hop held at the Silver Legacy resort. He was dressed in the clichéd white sports coat with a pink carnation and was a popular dance partner. One of the things he most detested about his new way of life was dealing with city officials. Toni, the mortal who was instrumental in getting official approval for Nannette's Place and a sometime Cary paramour was a snob, but Nick had danced two dances with her. Politics.

He had been to all the events during the week so he was getting used to the attention. The Hot August Nights festival was world famous and the classic cars were fabulous and some places, such as in front of the A & W stand on Kietzke and Grove were grooving places where Nick learned such dances as the Chicken Dance. It still amazed him that he was able to be talked into doing it.

At the present he was dancing with a former prostitute turned radio DJ who was running for office in Virginia City. The band was playing _The Twist_ and Nick could twist with the best of them. He did have to be careful not to work up a blood sweat though.

"NICK!" He heard the sound of a familiar voice.

No, it couldn't be. Not here, not now. He turned into the face of Myra Schanke, spouse of his ex partner thought dead but really alive.

"Myra?" Nick was so astonished he stopped dancing. He apologized to his partner, excused himself and walked with the newcomer to a refreshment stand. "What are you doing here?"

"Vacationing. We're staying at the Comstock."

"Your hubby's here as well?" This did not bode really well.

Myra nodded. She was a pretty woman wearing a pink prom dress that reminded Nick of Liz Taylor's dress in _A Place in the Sun_.

"I can't believe it's you, and all dressed up at an event like this!" Myra exclaimed. "Back home Donnie couldn't drag you out."

"Business, really," said Nick, hoping she would not want to know too much. "I am the director of a homeless organization and this is part of the territory."

"_Partner?_" A groan from Nick as he knew this voice, knew this voice from years of working with the man.

"Schank?" This was turning into a nightmare. Please, oh god, have Nat not be here. "Long time no see. Having fun?"

"I am. The hospital and burn unit drove me crazy." Schanke showed off a few grafted scars on his arms and legs, oblivious to the others. Pure Schanke, in a light blue seersucker suit, looking so perfect in this setting.

Nick had never realized how he had missed this man. He had driven him insane at times and his garlic obsession was a bit much but…

"So what are _you_ doing here?" asked Myra, always the inquisitive one, even more so than her devoted husband. For though he looked, he didn't stray.

"I live here now."

The conversation went on, Nick commenting on the Captain's new home when disaster struck in the tall blonde form of Esme in a gown reminiscent of Rita Hayworth's Gilda. She looked sexy and elegant with diamonds dripping from ears and a necklace worth a full two year's police salary. Her hair was styled like Lizabeth Scott and in fact she looked a bit like some cool Hitchcock blonde. Schanke's eyes popped out of his head when this elegant woman gave Nick a long, passionate kiss.

"Mon cher," she cooed, stroking his cheek. "Dance?"

Myra cleared her throat at Nick, who seemed to be dazed by the new arrival.

"Someone you know?" she inquired, archly.

"I'm sorry," apologized Nick. "Esmeralda Ruto, Donald and Myra Schanke. Don was my ex-partner back in Toronto."

Esme held her hand out. Schank shook it while the vampress looked on in distain at the two mortals. The clothing on the man—hideous.

"Nick and I are…friends. Good friends, monsieur."

"I bet," said Schanke's wife a little sharply. She did not trust this woman. "Nick," she turned to the other vampire, "Nat says to say hello."

Nick was speechless, which was rare for him. He and Esme had been quite the couple for the few months he had been here. Nothing really serious as he and Janette but serious enough. Jill had really pushed them together, trying to include them in all of their outings, including the barbeque in Tahoe over the fourth of July—which had been very interesting.

"I spoke to Nat recently," Nick admitted. So alright, it was a few months ago, but he was a vampire, an immortal and he had to let go.

"So, Nick, did some uncle leave you like an inheritance or something? I mean board chairman, fancy girlfriend, and expensive tux. What'd you do, win big on a machine? Megabucks or something?" Schanke asked.

"No," admitted Nick, "it was family money. I was afraid to use it for fear that you would think I was on the take."

"So you had money all that time and you couldn't even spare a loony to play the lotto? Sheesh, think you know a guy."

Esme tapped on elegant foot.

"Nick, darling, it's a slow song, mignon. Let's dance and forget these mortals."

Both mortals looked up at that and then at each other, vague memories coming back to Schank.

"One moment, Esme. Have them play another and you will have the next dance," Nick promised. He had to get her to leave so she did not give the game away. What was she playing at anyway?

"I started Nanette's Place," said Nick after Esme had left. He told the couple all about it and the good work they had done.

"Well, Nick, that is just like you. You come into money and spend it on charity and giving back. God bless you," smiled Myra very innocently. After all, she did not know about him being what he was. It made him flinch a little.

"So Myra," inquired Nick, remembering something said by his former partner in passing, "have you been to the bowling center?"

"I have!" she enthused. "It's amazing. I managed to bowl a 200. Beautiful place, except for that long escalator." She laughed

"Did she ever love it," gripped Schanke. "We bowled what had to be a hundred games at least."

Myra lightly slapped her husband on his arm. "It was only 20 games and you know it Donald J. Schanke."

At this point the music stopped and the bandleader stepped up to the microphone.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a request. We all know and appreciate the work Mr. Nicholas Knight has done for the community, especially the 4th street section. So when we have a request from a beautiful woman for such a man we play what they want. This goes out especially to Mr. Knight from Esme, with a message: 'J'taime Nicholas and merci beaucoup.'"

Nick blushed as hard as a vampire could possibly blush, which admittedly wasn't much. Don and Myra exchanged looks again. _This_ was the brooding loner, the one in the austere loft, the Knightmare?

The song began with full orchestral operatic tilt. Then the singer started crooning the Al Martino hit:

"Here in my heart I'm alone, and so lonely,

Here in my heart I just yearn for you only,

Here in my arms I long to hold you,

Hold you so near, ever close to my heart,

So darling--------

Say that you care, take these arms I'll give gladly,

Surely you know I need your love so badly

Here is my heart, my life, and my all, dear

Please be mine and stay here in my heart."

The singer, a popular performer in Reno lounges, sang the song well and really let loose on the second verse. The two blonde's danced smoothly on the floor together. At first they danced alone, sort of a Sweetheart Dance, and then everyone joined in—including the Schanke's, who tried to keep close.

After the music died down, the band announced a break and Esme led Nick away. He looked back at his friends.

"Wait just a moment," he told her.

"Nick…" she gave in a warning voice.

"He was my partner and kind of best friend for years; I owe him a last goodbye."

"Fine," she agreed then stiffened. "You best make it quick. Mr. Ego just came in."


	2. A Vampire's Night

DISCLAIMER: NOT ME, TPTB.

**CHAPTER 2**

It was approximately 8pm when Cary Shelley opened his eyes for the night. He had really overslept. With a yawn he almost stumbled down the staircase and put his mug of blood in the microwave to heat it. He could smell something really disgusting and he looked around. Enchiladas. Blanca must have made them, or brought them. During Nick's stay, Cary had given in and brought a stove—moving the old bombe desk to the big guest room. He took his mug, took an enjoyable sip and began his rounds.

Satisfied everything was alright; he let the dog outside and walked out himself, jumping with one smooth movement onto his fence overlooking the Washoe Valley. He could make out all the lights of the cities of Reno and Sparks as they came together in glorious color under their neon signs.

Jumping lightly back down, he and the dog went back inside and Cary made his way to his office and the pile of mail sitting there. He sat down in his rather comfortable and ergonomic desk chair and began sorting. Blanca was not allowed to sort, she just took the mail in.

"Bill, bill, bill, bill—all to Paul," he told the dog. "Ad—now why would I need a Scolari's card? When do I ever grocery shop?" A sigh and he ran a hand through his black hair. "Bill, bank statement, bank statement, bill, junk, credit card. Credit card? Junk, junk, bill."

With another sigh he gathered up all the ads and other assorted junk mail (shredding the things with his name on it) and brought them to the recycling bin in the garage. He shut the door to the bathroom on his way out, sickened by the smell of hairspray and other matter his sensitive nose picked up.

Cary then took the important mail—the bills and bank statements—and went into the library to study them.

After careful perusal, he faxed the bills off to Paul for his safekeeping and payment and then filed away the statements and the originals. Cary kept everything faithfully for five years before throwing away anything at all—two years over the maximum time the IRS needed.

Then, walking back into the library with another mug he looked at the invitation he had received to the Silver Legacy event going on. To go or not to go, that was the question. He lay down on the divan and switched on the television to CNN, catching up on the news.

"So, Fiona, should I go or not?" The dog just cocked her head at him and jumped up on the chair next to him, hanging her head over the end and looking at him. "I did give my employees the week off, so why shouldn't I go and have some fun. After all, I did get Nick to Chicken Dance and Cha Cha Slide." Cary laughed out loud and the Shepard barked.

"But who to take? Should I take a date or go solo? Hmmm."

He arose from the divan and headed toward the phone and took the wireless receiver back with him to his previous position. He speed dialed a number and let the phone ring a few times. It was answered by a female voice in a loud place.

"Jill here," came the tinny voice over the cell phone.

"Cary here. Where are you?"

"Fitzgerald's. I'm on a date with some hot shot official from Sacramento. And you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm off to the Prom."

"Oh, have fun. Toodles," she said, blowing a kiss into the phone.

Cary pressed the off button and looked at the receiver in his hand as if to accuse it of something. He let his fangs drop just because it felt good and placed the instrument on his chest. Who now? He couldn't go alone. How did they call it—stag. Yeah, stag. He couldn't do that.

Not thinking, he tapped a finger on his teeth to think and managed to slice one on a sharp fang. Vampire fangs were shark like in their sharpness. People tended to think of snakes, but Cary always thought of sharks. He sucked the little bit of blood out, enjoying the taste of his victims and also Helena.

The brunette vampire shook his head. No, no use thinking of her. He had to have a date for the night and Jill was busy. Busy. Cary growled at the thought. Ok, then, who next? Allison, Sonya, Gwen, Bunny, Gina—no Kitty; Kitty Orion, the owner of Bloodlines. Kitty hardly ever planned dates as she was so busy. He thought a moment of her speed dial number and the phone beeped out the number.

"Bloodlines, Katherine Orion speaking." Cary could barely hear her even with his enhanced hearing it was so loud. So much for this.

"Kit, this is Cary Shelley."

"Cary," Kitty's voice melted into butter and became as smooth as a WASP could be. Kitty always had a case of the voice that women from wealth had. It sounded sort of English to Cary, and he liked it. Jill's voice was pure upstate New York. "How are you? Speak up, I can hardly hear you."

"Are you busy?" Cary asked her in a slightly raised voice, making Fiona raise her head in wonder.

A throaty laugh from the other end. "Busy? Darling, it's Hot August Nights. Of course we're busy. Why?"

"Well, I was invited to the Prom up the street from you and was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

"You sound like you're telling, not asking, handsome."

"No, just requesting. I really want to go but I don't want to go stag."

Another burst of joviality from the women. "Stag? Cary, modern slang for you? Did you buy a dictionary?"

Cary ran a hand through his unruly hair, catching it on a snag.

"So, would you like to go with me?"

"Hold on." The male heard the receiver being put down and the music faint from the background. Gina was singing, well, thank whoever that he had not invited _her_. "Alright," said Kitty as she came back on the phone, "I really need to get away from this place anyway. I'll be ready whenever you are."

"Fine. See you in about an hour."

"I'll be there. Kisses." And she hung up the phone.

""""""""""""""""""""""""""

An hour later, to the nose, Cary's doorbell rang and he went to answer it. Then he whistled. Kitty was dressed in a vintage Balmain gown and it complemented her chestnut hair and green eyes. She also wore a white pearl necklace of three strands and white gloves. She looked sort of beautiful. Not Jill-like, but still.

As for her part, she tried not to gasp when she saw him for as usual Cary dressed for his looks. He wore a white tuxedo with a green cummerbund that set off his eyes to perfection, taking whatever yellowy-brown out of them existed. He also wore white bucks, like Pat Boone used to wear, just for quirky fun. He looked gorgeous, but then she thought wryly, he always did. After all, he had been brought across mainly because of his face.

"Well, aren't we dressed for the title of Prom King and Queen," joked Kitty and came up and gave Cary a long kiss and then bit down on his neck, sucking the blood right out of him.

The assault was so unexpected Cary didn't do anything back at all. The only thing he could do was moan with the pleasure of it.

It ended as suddenly as it began and Kitty licked her lips dry and reapplied her red Brenda Frazier lipstick in the mirror. Cary was dazed as he picked up his cup and drained the rest of the contents.

"What was that about?" he asked in wonder, rubbing his neck.

"Just in case I don't get to do it later," she answered him, making him blush for she knew his

reputation well.

"Well, ready to go?" he asked her.

Kitty took his arm. "All ready."

They exited out of the house and into the limo Cary had rented for the occasion. After all, it was a prom and he remembered biting high school students at their proms and their memories of such.

"Oh," Cary suddenly remembered, turning to her, "here." And he gave her a wrist corsage wrapped in a white box with a blood red ribbon.

It was now Kitty's turn to blush.

"Thank you, Cary. This was sort of unexpected."

"It's a prom and I've had enough high school students to know what to do."

That earned him a raised eyebrow for Kitty exclusively drank mortal blood from bottles only. She was like Nick in that way—except for the fact that Nick's was cow.

"Well," she was astonished.

"So why did you decide to go? Club not busy tonight?" inquired he.

"No, it was very busy indeed. I just needed to get out, as I told you. Why did you invite me?" she challenged back.

"You were on the list," said Cary, honestly. "I asked Jill first if you want to know the truth of it."

Kitty nodded. "I figured as such. That is why I bit you and said that I might not get the chance again."

She sighed dramatically. Cary asked what was wrong.

"The club," she began. "It's getting to be overwhelming. There are more vampires coming into Reno due its reputation—both the city and the club. Gina isn't a competent assistant and I need someone with club experience to help me run it. Any ideas?"

"None," answered back the other. "However, as part owner I do have a stake in this, if you would pardon the pun." Silence in the back and then, "I know, I'll ask Nick. He might know a vampire who needs a job, after all that's what he does."

The hired limo let them off on Sierra Street to the side of the Silver Legacy Hotel and Casino, since Virginia Street was closed to automobile traffic, unless you had a classic car of which the stretch was not.

They entered and Cary immediately led the way back to the oil derek that stood in the middle of the casino. It was actually a huge working model of one and the dome above changed with the weather. Sometimes it was sunny, sometimes stormy and sometimes, like tonight, stunt people were climbing all over it.

The two watched for a few minutes, Cary savoring his surroundings. Of all the hotels in Reno, the Victorian themed legacy was his favorite. From the costumes to the food, it was all as it was in the nineteenth century, or at least some tourists' vision of that decade.

Kitty nudged her date and they went back into the ballroom where the dance was being held. Cary showed the doorman their tickets and they checked their coats and entered into the room just in time to see Nick Knight and Esme Ruto having a sweetheart dance. That caused a raised eyebrow from Kitty and a strange look from Cary.

The dance ended and they made their way over to the two vampires, who had finished and were pretending to drink.

"Cary!" exclaimed Esme, as if she was truly glad to see him.

"Esmeralda. Nicolas. How are you two doing tonight?" asked the dark haired vampire.

"We're just fine, cher," answered back Esme.

"We are?" Kitty jumped in between them. "Are you two a 'we are' now?"

"I don't know about that now," said Esme, coyly, "but we have been seeing each other for a while."

"Why don't you two ladies go powder your noses? I need to talk with Nick."

"If you ruin this…" started an irate blonde vampress.

"It's something Kitty and I discussed in the car, Esme. It has nothing to do with you at all."

With a suspicious look, for she knew him well, the two women left to see what was going on in the room. At that, Cary took Nick aside and told him about the problems Kitty was having with the club.

"So, you have all these people and vampires looking for work and here is a job just waiting for them. They need some accounting background and preferably some nightclub background as well. But the job pays well and the hours, well, for vampires it's perfect."

Nick thought a minute.

"I do have several vamps in mind…" he began, when he noticed his friend freeze in place. Just like a statue, he froze. Nick turned and saw Myra standing there, smiling at them.


	3. Changing Partners

Not me, Sony and all. Except for those who do.

**CHAPTER 3**

"Myra!" exclaimed Nick, as if he had never seen the woman before.

"Nick?" asked Cary in a strange sounding voice that sounded like it was anticipating a great meal. "Who is this?"

Nick introduced the two and Myra observed Cary. She had thought Nick a good looking man but this one took the cake. When, all of a sudden, had her husbands brooding ex-partner become such a social butterfly?

"Hello, have you known Nick long?" asked she.

"Since he's come to Reno. He stayed with me for a while his flat was getting made up."

The music changed and _My Prayer_ came wafting over the microphone. The singer was doing a pretty good job of it and Cary gave an evil little smile.

"Mrs. Schanke, would you care to dance?" he asked, just as Esme and Kitty came back up.

Myra was a little taken aback. Something about these people…

"I promise, I won't bite," said the vampire with a huge grin that showed lots of gleaming white teeth. Though the fangs didn't show, the smile was still lethal looking and Myra took an involuntary step back then regained her composure.

"Alright," she agreed, finally and swallowed as Cary led her to the dance floor.

Her husband came up with a couple of drinks and saw his wife in another man's arms. Nick quickly explained why Myra was dancing with a complete stranger. He also introduced Kitty.

"Mignon, would you care for this dance," coyly asked Esme of Nick.

"Yes, I would," he answered, part to dance and part to keep an eye on Cary, who he did not trust in the least. Cary reminded Nick of LaCroix in so many ways, except he was not so controlling. However, they were both dangerous creatures to be around—for both vampires and humans.

Kitty looked Schanke over.

"Would you like to dance, seeing as if my date is tripping the lights with your lovely wife?"

Don jumped at the idea. Imagine if the folks back at the Precinct could see him now, dancing with this beautiful woman. Also what would they say about Nick back home? How did he get this way? Was there something in the water? Kitty looked at him.

"Cat got your tongue? You look like you have a million questions and no answers, Don."

Schanke blinked. Don? No one called him that really, but it sounded good coming from her.

"I do. It doesn't make much sense. I've known Knight for years and this is the first time I've seen him willingly at a fancy affair. He used to kick up quite a fuss back then. But now--."

"People do change, Don. Even those such as Nick can change," she said reasonably. "So is the change for the good or the bad?"

"I haven't decided yet," admitted the detective, "but I will find out. We don't need to be back until Sunday night so I have all week yet." He smiled. "And when Don Schanke gets on a case, it gets solved."

"No doubt," said Kitty.

""""""""""

"So," said Cary to the dark haired women in his arms, "you're a friend of Nick?"

"I've known him for years. However, I never felt like I really knew him."

"Trust me, Mrs. Schanke…"

"Myra. Call me Myra. You make me feel old. How old are you anyway? 20? 21?"

Cary thought for a split second. "25."

"Really? You look so young." Myra took a rather graceful spin. "What would you be hanging around an old guy like Nick?"

"Nick isn't old. He's in his thirties."

"Still, he doesn't seem like the same person. It's almost as if he changed personalities when he moved," Myra observed, not recognizing the truth behind the statement. "So, what do you do for a living, as young as you are?"

"I own my own company. It was sort of inherited." That was not the truth but if these Schanke people were to do investigating they would find out how old he really was. It was simple enough for the company was incorporated back in the 1970's, which would make him a baby running it. So Esme came up with the back story of his father owning the company and of Cary himself being a junior. He didn't like it, he didn't want to think of his own sire in any way associated with his undead life, but it had to be done.

"What do you do?"

"Inbound telemarketing," said the vampire with a perfectly straight face.

"Telemarketing? Are you one of those people who call me at dinner time?"

"No, trust me. We don't call just anyone. We don't call anyone at all. They call us."

"So what do you sell?"

"Have you seen infomercials on the television? Those products, well, some of those products," Cary gave a small smile. "We also sell some special items only available through us."

"Skin Pretty, the firm I do part time work with, sells on those things sometimes. In fact, that's how we were able to take this trip. I won a contest."

Cary smiled prettily. "Well congratulations, Myra. Skin Pretty? What do they sell?"

"It's like Avon, but better. We sell cosmetics and facial products. We are also getting into toys and other merchandise. In fact, the contest was selling Halloween products."

That earned a raised eyebrow which the mortal found attractive. There was something very seductive about this man which she couldn't quite put her finger on. He was really not very personable but he had _something_.

"Halloween? Little early, isn't it?"

"Not for us. We start early, to get a jump start on the competition. Plus it takes a couple of weeks for the order to come in."

The music was ending and Cary gave her one last twirl and handed her off to her husband, taking his date back. They would be interesting, these humans. He grinned and kissed a surprised Kitty.

""""""""""

Nick and Esme were finishing up their dance when they noticed Myra returned safely and Cary taking Kitty and giving her a big smack on the dance floor to the last notes of the song.

"What's he up to?" asked the vampress.

"Who's to say he up to something?"

Esme laughed.

"Nick, mignon, I know Cary very well. He doesn't toy with mortals. If they have no use to him he kills them. You don't understand the depth of it. If he's leaving that human alone, cher, he has reason, comprenez-vous?"

"I don't. Those mortals are my friends and he knows not to touch them. Maybe he has some hare-brained scheme up his sleeve, but they will live through this. I know this for a given fact.

"They might live through it, but they would be affected," persisted Esme.

Nick looked at her sideways as the music ended. He realized that she did not like Cary at all. Not one bit, not even a little. He told her this and she agreed.

"No, I don't. It goes back a long way, mignon. I respect his position and his authority but like him? Non."

"Don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him. He asked for a favor anyway and I think I know the person I want for it."

"Careful of his favors—giving or taking. He keeps tally."

Nick laughed.

""""""""""

The next song was a zinger—_Good Golly Miss Molly_ and Nick partnered Myra. He wanted to talk with her, though it was tough so he waited until _Diamonds and Pearls_ came on, a request from someone.

"Having a good time?"

"I am. I need to thank Skin Pretty for sponsoring this." Silence for a verse. "Tell me, Nick. What are you doing? Is this some midlife crisis you're going through?"

"Midlife crisis? No, why?"

"All of this," she indicated the ballroom with a sweep of her hand. "The fancy girl, the dress up, the friends. These people are not Natalie Lambert types."

"I know. As president of the charity though I do need to network and these events help hundreds of people."

"Now _that's_ the Nick I know."

""""""""""

"What are you up to, Cary?" asked Esme, who accepted a dance from him.

"Nothing at all. Why would I be up to anything? These mortals are Nick's friends so they're safe from me. I cherish that friendship too much to ruin it."

"Alex would be so jealous," she teased him, knowing how much it annoyed him.

Cary's eyes yellowed some and he growled.

"Alex hasn't anything to do with this. I like Nick as a friend, hard as it is for someone like you to believe anyone has friends."

Esme's eyes narrowed.

"You, monsignor are an arrogant son of a bitch and I hope you get caught in some dawn!" she hissed at him, piqued.

The male vampire's eyes narrowed at the insult, one of the worse to throw at their kind.

"Go to hell, Esme. The only reason I put up with you is because of your damned company. If it wasn't for that, you would have been destroyed along with your mentor."

"He wasn't my mentor. He was my lover and there is a difference. Besides, I saw the light, as they say."

Cary scoffed at that.

"Lover. That's the other reason I put up with you. Nick seems to care for you and I wouldn't want anything to happen to him."

"Why? Why him?"

"He's my friend and a good one and not in the way your perverted little mind thinks."

It was Esme turn to scoff.

"Speaking of perverted little minds, your boyfriend just came in the door."

Cary turned and saw Alexi Borisnovo standing there, staring at him.

""""""""""

"How long have you known Nick?" asked Kitty of her dance partner, Don.

"Since he became my partner back in 1992. He's a good guy. A little strange, but a good guy."

The brunette smiled.

"Yes, he seems to be. He's very well-liked around town. He's always welcome at my club."

"You run a nightclub? Boy, Nick sure knows how to find them. You know, he always went to this dark club back in Toronto called The Raven. It was run by his ex. Or at least I think she was his ex, he never did explain that partnership…"

"Ex? You mean Janette?"

"Yeah, Janette. Beautiful French woman. Like a dark version of your friend there," he pointed at Esme.

"I think there might be a little bit of a difference," laughed Kitty. "Oh no, look who just came in?"

"Who?"

"A…acquaintance. Just an acquaintance."


	4. Alexi

Finally updated. Well what do you know. Miracles happen. LOL.

Had some major formatting problems so I hope that's solved.

Anyway, same old, same old. As usual, read and review please. I thrive on feedback—good, bad, or ugly (well, not ugly. Vampires don't like flames.)

**CHAPTER 4**

"Alexi Borisnovo, may I present Donald and Myra Schanke. Don was my old partner back in Toronto."

Alex smiled. 'My, what nice teeth', thought Myra. In fact, all of Nick's friends had beautiful unnaturally pearly white dentition. It was as they all went to the same dentist who bleached them that way.

The auburn-haired vampire clicked his heels, military style. Alex had been born to the Russian nobility and the military bearing was natural to him. He had a commanding, yet fey way about him. Of ancient lineage, he considered the Romonov's upstarts and that got him confined to the Fortress of Peter and Paul. He met a vampire there and was brought over in 1905, just before the October Manifesto.

"Pleased to meet you. We have heard much about you, Detective Schanke. And also the lovely Mrs. Schanke as well."

He held his hand out and Schanke shook it, shuddering a little at the coldness. Like Nick and that Kitty woman, he had those hands—not frosty cold, but very cool. Little bits of memory were coming back, but for the life of him, he could not remember what that was.

"I would like to introduce my friend, Julio."

Julio turned out to be a Mexican national who could not speak English but understood quite a bit of it. He was also human, which meant that he would probably not live to see the morning.

The victim, for that was what he was to be, exchanged pleasantries with the two other humans and the vampires. He could say the basic hello and goodbye, but not much in-between so Alex acted as narrator for the Schanke's.

Myra took this news well, as Alexi's homosexuality did not bother her. Don did not take this as well as his wife. He still had some old prejudices about the reddish-haired Russian's lifestyle. As a human being with a basically good soul he knew this was wrong to think. However, the Catholic in him did not think that way.

"So, Mr. Schanke…" began Alex.

"Don. Or Detective, if you will."

"Fine, Detective Schanke. Are you of Greek origin? Nick tells us you have a souvlaki addiction."

"No, Polish."

"Ahh," Alex replied. The Poles were not always on Russia's side, though he spent much time in the country when the Tsar was at his hunting lodge in Spala. Though he disliked the Imperial Family, he knew where his fortunes lay. Then came 1905 and a drastic change in his destiny.

"Are you to be in town long?" he continued.

"Just this week," said Schanke, cautiously.

"Too bad. I'm sure Nick would love to have you stay longer," Alex snidely remarked, though the mortal couple did not pick up on it.

"I wish we could, but unfortunately not everyone has a fortune like Nick. Some of us have to work for a living."

"I work. I've worked since I was five." Cary was indignant.

"Five? Where were you raised? India?" Schanke joked at Cary's indiscretion.

Imperceptibly, the assembled vampires gasped. The brunette thought quickly.

"My family owned a business and I did small tasks for them—running around and all."

Myra was confused.

"What kind of running around. I thought your father founded that telemarketing company you were telling me about."

"He did." Cary was caught. Esme looked at him with narrowed eyes but Alex came to his rescue.

"He did small errands like cleaning ashtrays for his father at the office to earn his allowance; I believe you call it, yes?"

The other vampire nodded at the usage of the word. Kitty meanwhile quietly was trying to mesmerize them. The problem was that Myra was a resister and Schanke was immune, having been whammied too much in the past.

Luckily the music changed and Kitty drug her date to the dance floor before he could cause more damage. Alex stayed behind, watching Cary's every move. Everyone else moved off dancing and Alex asked Myra for a dance. She agreed and Don and Julio stood on the sidelines. Julio was not above twirling around the dance floor with him, but Schanke was.

"""""""""""

"You dance very well, Mr. Borisnovo."

"Thank you, madam. But please, call me Alexi."

"So, were you born in Russia?"

"Oui. Not too far from St. Petersburg."

"French also?" Myra teased.

"Well, madam, all Russians of the upper nobility spoke French. Russian was only spoken in the provinces."

"Have you been in this country long?"

Alex smiled and thought of how to answer that. Since being brought over during the Revolution, he had lived first in France, then Sweden, and then England then came to the States by way of Japan almost 30 years past.

"I have. For quite a while now."

"You seem to like Cary," the detective's wife hinted.

"Ah, very perceptive. I do indeed."

"Does he like you?"

"That madam is very hard to say. It is true that I care for him deeply though."

"Hard to say?" prompted the dark haired mortal.

Alex sighed and decided to let this woman in a little. Maybe she could help.

"The problem is that Cary, while a consummate flirt, says he is not that way inclined. He's a tease, though. He will allow the massages, the small kisses and was even of the inclination to lie on my lap on occasion, but nothing else. Cary draws a sharp line and I know what I could get away with and what I could not."

What he left out was the fact that Colin, the Enforcer, watched like a hawk and a healthy fear of Helena also kept him from crossing lines with Cary.

"Well, maybe while I'm in town I can see what I can do. He doesn't really seem to be interested in the women he's with now."

The woman was perceptive. Interesting how this might turn out. He led Myra back to her husband when the dance ended and promised to stop by later.

""""""""""

"Watch your friends, Nick." Esme told him again as they swayed on the floor.

"Whatever do you mean?" he asked.

"Alex is not above a little subterfuge."

Nick was puzzled. "Of what sort?"

"Cary," said the blond as she inclined her head in the other's direction.

"I don't understand."

"Your Myra is very easy to read. I think she's not above matchmaking and Cary would not be pleased. I'm sure you want them to still be alive when they get on the plane back to Canada, non?"

"You don't think Cary would..."

"Yes, I do think he would. You don't know him like I do mignon." She smiled. "Besides, Alexi is jealous of you. So the purpose would be duel." The dance ended with Nick totally mystified. But now it seemed that the Schanke's would be seeing a lot more of him then they probably ever thought.


End file.
